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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28267758">In the Year of the Horse</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/saucytuggles/pseuds/saucytuggles'>saucytuggles</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Asuras Bride (Webcomic), Midnight Poppy Land (Webcomic)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Eventual Smut, F/M, Humor, Romance, Smut, Wedding Night</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 21:07:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,904</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28267758</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/saucytuggles/pseuds/saucytuggles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes getting to the wedding night is the fun part.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ulaan | Asura/Yuwa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>75</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>MPL Christmas Collab 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/larosamorada85/gifts">larosamorada85</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tpmpldar/gifts">Tpmpldar</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><strong>In the Year of the Horse</strong> was written to <strong>larosamorada85</strong>'s prompt for an NSFW fic of Ulaan &amp; Yuwa's wedding night. It is part of the <strong>Midnight Poppy Land 2020 Christmas Collab</strong>.</p><p>This story is deeply indebted to <strong>Tpmpldar</strong> (<strong>@darlaamami</strong> on IG) for the central concept of the smut scenes, and the inspiration for the wedding visuals from her stunning oil portrait of Yuwa and Ulaan's wedding kiss.</p><p>This was a very meaningful project for me, as a writer. Asura's Bride lays out such a rich narrative engine, but didn't get to drive very far. Yet, lol. We can always dream, right? It was a different process for me go deeper and create more of their world while staying true and being respectful to Lilydusk's vision of her characters and their world.</p><p>Anyway I did my level best. Thank you so much for reading. </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>King Ulaan &amp; Yuwa Royal Wedding</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>oil painting by @darlaamami</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>In the Year of the Horse</b>
  <b></b>
</p>
<p>an Asura’s Bride Fanfic by Saucy Tuggles</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Thank you, </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Lilydusk, for leaving all the delicious breadcrumbs for us to follow. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Asura’s Bride can be read on Webtoons Canvas.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This is a derivative work based on some amazing characters totally owned by Lilydusk.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Enjoy.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuwa still couldn’t believe they had really done it. She tipped her head back, looking into the night sky as the wedding celebration roared around her. Sparks, as bright red and gold as her wedding cloak, drifted on the updrafts of the towering bonfire, spiraling into the blackness, up and up until they joined the constant stars. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She inhaled as deeply as she could. The clean sharp air filled her chest, cold and tinted with the smell of wood smoke. A rough movement jostled her and she lowered her gaze to the man beside her. Her husband, and now her King. Even seated he towered over her, strength radiating from him. Ulaan. His face was flushed. His voice rang out as he sang and shouted and joked with his men. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She studied his face. It warmed her to see him relaxed and smiling. After the long months of waiting the tension was gone from his jaw, there was no tightness around his eyes, between his brows. Ulaan felt her gaze. He looked down and she saw pleasure flare in his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He seized her for a kiss, pressing her against him. Her mouth opened under his as his hand found her neck, angled her face diagonally against his. Ulaan arched over her, bending her backward, then pulled back with a smile, leaving her flushed and breathless. The celebrants around the fire howled their approval.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He brought his lips to her ear. “Soon, little doll,” he murmured. “Very soon.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ulaan’s arm stayed tight around her waist, crushing her to his side as he greeted and joked with the many celebrants and well-wishers who came and went before them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yuwa looked down, glad the wedding guests could not see the effect of his kiss on her body. The blush in her cheeks spread under the appliqued silk, lower, much lower. She could not distract herself from the ache between her legs. Ulaan had not been the only one who had suffered through the past months. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She looked at the surging crowd. Even the visiting nobles and courtiers of Shan, at first taken aback by the sheer scale of the revelry, had now joined in. Their embroidered boots slipped on the packed snow as they grasped each other's shoulders and sang along. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tonight was the first evening of their wedding celebration, which would last three full days and nights. Tomorrow there would be a horse festival, races and competitions of lassoing, taming, and trick riding on the plains around the capital. People from around the Northern Kingdom would participate in contests of wrestling and archery on the following day, while on the third day the wedding party would enjoy performances of skill and art by renowned masters. On that final evening the festivities would conclude with a feast in their honor, after which King Ulaan and Queen Yuwa would give gifts to all in attendance. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She looked again into the clear night sky. The Milky Path, or Silver River as it was called in Shan, glowed above them, adorned with a banquet of stars. A tiny sliver of moon, barely visible, heralded this first day of the Year of the Horse.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Without turning his head, Ulaan asked quietly, “Are you ready for me, my Queen?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She shivered and tried not to bite her lip as his words inflamed the deep yearning in her body. His hand skimmed the many loops and ornaments woven into her hair as he leaned into her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“When we reach our chamber, I’m going to pull out these many pins, one by one, and set your long hair free.” His large hand on her waist moved lower. “Undressing you will also be my pleasure. Eat and drink lightly, Queen Yuwa,” he chuckled, his voice low and dark, “for we will have little sleep tonight.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He turned to shout a retort to a lewd jest from one of his generals, but his hand still gripped her hip. Yuwa pressed closer to him. He tilted his ear to hear her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are we waiting for, my King?” she whispered. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had been almost a year since the day they had been reunited, the day she realized he still lived. She remembered their swift embrace, their hunger for each other like a lightning strike, her body igniting, him driving into her, uncontrollable. She remembered her fierce joy reflected in his eyes as their bodies came together. The wonder on his face as he saw her standing in his mother’s dress. They had returned to her father’s throne room, hand in hand. </p>
<p>“Now, Your Majesty, where were we?” Ulaan couldn’t stop glancing down at her, as if surprised to find her at his side where she belonged. </p>
<p>“I believe you were stating your intention to marry my daughter.” The King of Shan looked amused.</p>
<p>Ulaan glanced up at him. “I was.” </p>
<p>“This union will formalize the new bond between our kingdoms.”</p>
<p>His firm tone held a warning. Ulaan stood straight and looked directly into the face of the King, whom they both knew sat on that throne only at Ulaan’s pleasure. </p>
<p>“It will,” Ulaan said. </p>
<p>Yuwa’s father was a wily and seasoned king. Rather than shrinking under Ulaan’s stare, the King of Shan returned his gaze calmly. </p>
<p>“Then the formalities of a royal wedding shall be observed. Respect for our ancient traditions will please the people of both our nations.” He recited the necessary words. “I recognize your courtship of Princess Yuwa, and am open to receiving your proposal. I look forward to the arrival of your matchmakers, King As—“ He caught himself. “King Ulaan.” </p>
<p>Ulaan stood frozen for a moment. He looked down at Yuwa, who smiled shyly, and extricated his hand from hers. Between her legs she could still feel the heat, the pleasant stretch of the muscles deep inside her from being wrapped around him only these few minutes past. She tucked her hands into the opposite sleeves and attempted to look demure. </p>
<p>“How long is this formal courtship?” he asked slowly. “I wish to know our wedding date.” </p>
<p>Yuwa looked at him from beneath her lashes. “It will depend on the customs of your people as well, King Ulaan, but the date will be decided by the monks, after my father accepts the proposal, gifts are exchanged, and our betrothal is confirmed.” </p>
<p>Ulaan gritted his teeth, but said nothing. </p>
<p>“Is there any other business for today, noble King?” the King of Shan asked politely. “We have prepared a welcome banquet in your honor.” </p>
<p>“Very kind, Your Majesty, but if I am not returning with my bride, then I shall depart immediately so that I may send my proposal without delay. My envoys here can manage all other negotiations.” </p>
<p>With a stiff nod to the King, he turned to Yuwa, eyes blazing, bowed, and took his leave.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>****************</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yuwa might have been amused at Ulaan’s disappointment if the separation had not been torture for her as well. Her heart jumped when the first petals of the first spring blossoms fluttered from the bare branches of the trees and Ulaan’s matchmakers arrived at the palace in Shan. </p>
<p>The two northern men rode through the streets on white horses, wearing fine dark robes of silk. Just as her father predicted, the people of Shan came out to watch them ride by, at first curious, interested, then, as they realized the occasion, excited. </p>
<p>At the palace, the matchmakers bowed before the King and presented him with ceremonial gifts—a length of blue silk the deep color of the northern sky, a carved silver bowl, tightly wrapped parcels of golden dried berries and fragrant tea. </p>
<p>With equal formality, the King of Shan accepted the gifts and proclaimed he must consider this matter carefully. As was traditional, the matchmakers were sent home without an answer. </p>
<p>Yuwa’s handmaidens giggled over the gifts, the dashing cut of the matchmakers’ finery, their stern and handsome looks. But Yuwa could only gaze longingly to the north. His frustration must be a match to her own, but she had been well-schooled. She knew the importance to the public of leaders observing their own traditions.</p>
<p><em>Patience, </em>she thought, absentmindedly running the blue silk fabric between her fingers. <em>Patience, and we will bind these nations together.</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“What are we waiting for, my King?” she whispered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A tiny smile played over her lips as his head snapped around at her words. His eyes held hers for a moment, then he leapt to his feet. He stepped back as a group of boys galloped their ponies around the bonfire. The Court Astrologer of Shan fell backwards trying to avoid them, but was caught by a northern soldier before he hit the snow. The boys raced into the night as Ulaan cleared his throat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Continue with your celebrations, but I must leave you. It is time for your Queen to give me an heir!” Yuwa slapped his leg with a fierce look as he helped her to her feet, feeling she would never get used to these bald northern ways. Across the fire her older sister Princess Yujen smirked. The crowd shouted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ay! The bull must mount the cow! Many blessings to you both!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“May your arrows fly straight, my King!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Use the camel position, my Queen,” an elderly, very drunk grandma shouted, banging her cup on the ground. Her wide brimmed hat teetered on her head. “Strong children come from keeping your feet together!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yuwa felt like pulling her sleeve over her burning face. Ulaan’s shameless laughter was not helping. They turned toward their new wedding tent. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My King! My King!” A thin older gentleman wearing a rich green silk robe rose unsteadily to his feet. “Go to your royal bed with a wedding poem! Very lucky!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ulaan pulled her in front of him and faced the poet, who tugged his robe straight as the firelight played over his face. He gestured dramatically.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“May you have a hundred years of each other’s company. May the serene moon shine on your life together, and flowers bloom around your home…” The crowd quieted at his words, listening. “May your love last longer than ten thousand miles.” He paused for a breath. “But tonight...may you go six inches!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The crowd roared. He bowed, almost tumbling forward as the men around him thumped his back and toasted him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Longer than that, fool!” Ulaan shouted with a grin. His men whooped while the Shan courtiers pretended to be scandalized. The Northern King lifted Yuwa into his arms and strode toward their new home. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cheers and laughter followed them. “Go in like a lion, come out like a lamb, my King!” “Play the game of twenty toes!” Yuwa snorted and ducked her face into his chest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ulaan paused, then changed directions, walking away from the marriage tent and the merriment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where are we going?” she asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have an idea, my love,” he said. His arms tightened around her, his steps grew faster. “Something I’ve dreamed about, for, I don’t know, almost a year…” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Ulaan’s uncles rode into the capital in the month when rice seedlings were transferred to the flooded fields in the southern part of Shan. Their large retinue included musicians, dancers, poets, donkeys laden with chests of the finest cloth, closed wooden trays filled with preserved delicacies, woven baskets of birds, barrels filled with live fish, and again, the long strip of blue silk. They processed through the city singing loudly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>          We have a mighty soldier, </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>          you have a little dove.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>          A horse will bring him fast to war, </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>          your girl will bring him love.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That evening they entertained the court with music, singing, and poetry, and presented their gifts with a great effusion of compliments and flattery to Shan. They extolled the bravery shown by its warriors, the wisdom and culture of its people, the beauty of its land. But most of all they heaped praise upon Shan’s ruler, his level head, his diligence and erudition, his sound judgment. As the speech drew to a close, they presented the King with their nephew’s proposal of marriage to the Fourth Princess. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yuwa sat next to big sister Yujen, who put her hand over Yuwa’s trembling fingers as they waited. Their father stroked his thick beard, considering his response. He leaned forward and gripped the arms of the throne.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shan is a rich and beautiful land. I am pleased that King Ulaan sees what we see. He sees our sparkling waters and the brilliant colors of our flowers, which dance like the sea at the slightest breath of wind. He sees our mountains, breathtaking under the silver moon, and our wild animals, so graceful as they run under the golden sun. Indeed, I am gratified that King Ulaan appreciates the profound beauty and value of our nation.” He paused, looking around at the assembled court.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But the greatest treasures of Shan are surely the Princesses Yujen and Yuwa, the true jewels of our land. It is my honor now to accept the proposal of the noble King Ulaan. My heart was glad when we bound our nations together in peace. I am glad again today that we shall reinforce that alliance by joining the blood of our houses. Honored guests, take this message to your King, that his betrothal to my daughter, Fourth Princess Yuwa, is happily and humbly confirmed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yuwa felt like she could breathe again. She knew this was all formality, but upon hearing the words her face burned with emotion, her eyes stung. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Compose yourself, sister,” Yujen murmured to her, nudging her below the table.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before returning to the north, Ulaan’s uncles politely insisted that the monks approve a date for the wedding. In their temple the holy men performed their astrology, then came before the throne of the King of Shah to declare that the wedding should occur on the last day of the White Moon festival, at the mid-winter turning of the year. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ulaan’s uncles were dismayed. “We do not wish to contradict your righteous monks, but weddings are normally in the summer, or at the very latest the fall. A mid-winter wedding is unusual…travel will be difficult, food will be harder to provide.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The shorter uncle with the neatly trimmed beard stated what they both were thinking. “King Ulaan will be greatly displeased, to put off his union until the new year…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The monks bowed. “Noble gentlemen, the coming year will be the year of the Horse, and the Fire Horse at that. This will be auspicious for the marriage, and for the birth of the first child, should the Northern King be fortunate enough to receive Heaven’s blessing so soon. If a crown prince is born under the sign of the Fire Horse, you shall have a king who will struggle through adversity and never tire. He will be bold and will lead your nation with both love and firmness. The people will have great respect and loyalty for such a king.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The uncles looked at each other. The shorter one pressed on. “But if they marry in the fall, would the child not be born in the new year?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The monks’ smiles did not slip, but their tone tightened. “Great Lords, the day was chosen to shape the marriage as well as the sign of the first child. It assures us that the union is formed and the new hearth fired under the best possible omens, considering the charts of both bride and groom.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And thus the wedding was set for the last day of the White Moon festival. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Behind her father’s throne, Yujen poked her with a knowing smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Going to be a long summer, little sis.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ulaan kept walking, away from their new home, until he finally stopped before the largest tent in the center of the vast camp. This was where he met with his Council, where he kept his throne. He set her down just inside the carved wooden door. Yuwa pulled off her heavy robe, as the fires still burned dimly and the shadowed room was warm. Ulaan leaned through the door frame and whistled short and sharp. Two soldiers trotted up. </p><p>“Stand guard here. Let no one pass.” </p><p>The men stepped into position flanking the entrance as Ulaan closed the door and dropped the heavy brocade liner over it. They were alone. He turned to her, his eyes burning.</p><p>“At last,” he said. “At long, long last.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Yuwa’s summer and fall had been brightened by repeated visits from the groom’s family, usually Ulaan’s uncles but occasionally other relatives. Once the betrothal was accepted, Ulaan himself led these visits. Each procession brought more gifts: delicate silver ornaments, herds of cattle and sheep, exotic trees with roots bound in canvas, ready to plant. Ulaan’s attendants took to throwing coins and candy to the crowds that lined the streets, the children that ran alongside them. </p><p>Ulaan was no longer a terrifying conqueror in the eyes of the people of Shan. He was magnetic and mysterious. When he rode through the streets they called their relatives to catch a glimpse of the renowned warrior who had been transformed into a symbol of strength and romance. They were proud that their little Princess had captured the heart of this imposing King. </p><p>Yuwa was overjoyed to see her love, to be in the same room with him, grasp his arms in greeting. But her father’s courtiers hovered around them every moment, without respite. They could not even walk in the garden alone. Her attendants did not listen to her pleas; it was clear her father’s men had directed them never to leave her side. </p><p>It was torture, and she saw her feelings reflected in his eyes each time her handmaidens stepped between them, each time the visit ended and he looked longingly at her before turning his mount to the road north. </p><p>Once, he leaned over her and before the circling escorts could move in, murmured, “I am only observing these cursed formalities out of respect for your father. Once you come north you shall be <em> mine</em>, and no one will dare come between us again.”</p><p>His words had slipped over her like a spell. As the days shortened, she spent many nights shivering, imagining herself under his hands again. She remembered the nights in his war camp, nights she felt a sweet, primal closeness to the strange warrior king. Surprisingly, his presence calmed her. How long the days felt as she waited for the shadows to rise. In the daylight he would train, ride, meet with his men. Sometimes he would see her there, but sometimes his focus and concentration was total, and she was content to watch him from a distance. His gestures, his movements, told her more about who he was than any speech, any courtly promise ever could. The way he smiled when his horse breathed into his face, his hand automatically stroking her behind the ears, how she lowered her head, trusting him. The ice in his eyes when he sighted a target, unerring, his breath steady as he drew blade or bow. His laugh when a soldier blundered, his words of encouragement, his example, lifting the other man’s spirit when a cutting word would have beat him down. Unlike the southern kings in their high palaces, he was a leader who walked among his people. Children were not afraid of him, grandfathers smiled at him when he passed, and he greeted them with kindness. When darkness finally came and he entered the tent where she waited, heart racing at the crunch of his boots in the snow, the still, quiet space was transformed, bursting into riotous life. It was as if his spirit preceded him, so big it could not be contained, even in his massive frame. He met her with an embrace, then his leather and armor, gloves and weapons, dropped to the floor and he was just hers. Ulaan.</p><p>Was he in that bed right now, imagining her? Did he picture her smile, her touch, the firelight in her hair? Did his hand disappear under his blankets and furs, even as hers slipped lower? Yuwa turned her face to her pillow. What would he do if he came in right now, if he saw how she ached for him? Her breath caught, remembering the stretch of his big hands around her waist, on her thighs, caressing her cheek. Remembering the fierce strength of his arms curled around her, the need in his eyes. She searched for him inside her mind, as if their spirits could touch by magic, by wishing alone. She could feel his warmth all around her, and she whispered his name into the night. </p><p>“<em>Ulaan… </em>” </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Winter came quickly that year. Ulaan’s uncles arrived on fast horses to urge the King of Shan to send the wedding party north. </p><p>“For Princess Yuwa to arrive by the White Moon festival, she must establish her camp before the winter solstice,” the smaller uncle argued, “before unpredictable weather makes the roads impassable.” </p><p>The larger, taciturn uncle spoke up, addressing the King in a low, drawling voice. “Majesty, I recommend that Shan not test King Ulaan’s patience by risking further delays.”  </p><p>When the King’s own advisers privately agreed that this was the best course of action, preparations began. A caravan was assembled, bearing the heavy burden of the Fourth Princess’s negotiated dowry. Wedding attendees, servants, and guards said their goodbyes to the loved ones they would not see until spring. </p><p>By custom a father did not attend marriage ceremonies outside of his own house, and the Queen had died many winters past, so Eldest Princess Yujen prepared to accompany her sister in her mother’s place. The two Princes of Shan would also ride with their sisters, guarding them on the journey. </p><p>The four royal siblings journeyed easily in the crisp weather of late fall, although the sheer size of the caravan slowed their pace. As they traveled further north, ice began to coat the ground in the mornings, but melted away at the first kiss of the sun. Trees became smaller, then sparser. </p><p>The day they crossed what had been the border of the Northern Kingdom, a light snow was falling. From the gently rolling hills in front of them a group of riders swiftly approached. Out in front, on the fastest horse, was the unmistakable form of the Northern King. The advance riders, including the two Princes, returned to the head of the caravan and formed a line of greeting. </p><p>Ulaan pulled his mount up abruptly, his long hair flowing around him. Behind him, the rest of his party, mostly soldiers, stopped at a respectful distance. </p><p>“Welcome,” he said. “I have come to escort the royal party of Shan into the heart of my kingdom. We are but half a day’s ride from the capital, and my camp.” </p><p>He looked behind the princes for a glimpse of his bride and saw her wide dark eyes at the window of an ornate wagon before another hand drew the curtain down. The wind carried the faint sound of women’s voices arguing to the front of the line. The corners of Ulaan’s mouth turned up, as the Crown Prince of Shan thanked him for his welcome. </p><p>The princes were eager as well for their journey to end, and curious to see the palace of the Northern King. They set a brisk pace for the road-weary caravan. </p><p>As they entered the valley of the northern capital, the princes pulled up their horses in surprise. The “city” sat in the center of a flat, treeless plain, its grasses brown under the late fall sky. Dry stony hills lent drama to the far horizon, but the location was much plainer than the many landscapes they had just traveled through. </p><p>The city itself was a roughly circular walled area only about 2 <em> li </em> across, an area which would not even hold a larger street market in the capital of Shan. A collection of temples and a few modest stone dwellings huddled within the walls, but surrounding the city proper were hundreds of circular tents organized into dozens of camps. Beyond the tents were vast herds of livestock and horses meandering over the dry grasses, tended by small boys racing back and forth on shaggy ponies. It reminded them of a merchant town, placed for convenience at the nexus of several trade routes, not the center of an empire. </p><p>The Princes exchanged a look. </p><p>“Good thing he picked Yuwa,” the Crown Prince snickered, out of hearing of the Northern King. “Yujen would have run off for real this time.”</p><p>The northern riders led them to an area with good water and low bluffs which would offer some protection from the fierce winds. “My people will help you establish your camp here,” King Ulaan said, “and will fortify your tents against the winter weather.”</p><p>With help from the King’s soldiers, the bridal party’s camp was established, and over 100 attendants, nobility, cooks, guards, astrologers, entertainers, magistrates, recorders, and other members of the Royal Court of Shan settled in for the long northern winter. </p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“My lovely Queen,” Ulaan murmured, stepping close to her, “didn’t I say I wanted the honor of undressing you?” He took her robe from her hands and set it aside. </p><p>“Yes, you did,” she said, looking around the dimly lit chamber. “But are we going to—to consummate our marriage—here?” she finished. “There’s not even a bed.”</p><p>Ulaan began to pick the pins and combs from her hair, one by one. Slowly and deliberately he drew them out, ran his fingers through each freed lock. </p><p>“That’s right.” He lifted a long piece of hair, ran his face along it, inhaling, from the ends to her scalp. She felt his breath on the top of her head. “What oils did they use on you? Your scent bewitches me tonight.” </p><p>“‘That’s right?’ Ulaan, what do you mean?” Yuwa felt strange in this room where he met with his generals and counselors, where he passed judgment on wrongdoers. She pictured their large shared dwelling, decorated with the furniture and ornaments she had brought from Shan. Their bed, their tub, the hearth that had been fired for the first time today. Intimate and welcoming. “I want to go to our bed.” </p><p>“Soon, little doll.”</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Many times since the arrival of the Shan, Ulaan had considered sending soldiers to bring Yuwa to his tent. Many, many times. The Shan camp, in friendly territory, was lightly guarded and in any case, the soldiers of the vassal state would not resist his men. </p><p>He remembered the nights she had spent in his war tent, the moments he had held her, claimed her. How she opened to him, clung to him. The cries she made as she lost herself, as he buried his cock inside her. His little doll. No one and nothing should stop him, keep her from him. A sound like a snarl rose in his throat at the very thought. </p><p>But Ulaan pictured Yuwa’s father, his calm and knowing eyes. He pictured the people of Shan lining the streets to catch a glimpse of the foreign King come to woo their princess, their faces eager, the children running alongside, daring each other to touch his boot or his horse’s shoulder, then scampering away. </p><p>The King of Shan was wise. Anything Ulaan did here would return on the winds to Shan, would spread throughout his empire, his deeds amplified by rumor and gossip. In a sense, the Shan King’s orders secluding Yuwa protected Ulaan, his new and fragile reputation as a benevolent ruler, just as much as they protected his daughter’s honor. </p><p>So he endured. </p><p>On the day of the cold solstice, the darkest day of the year, the count of winter began and the people began preparing for the White Moon festival. The festival began after the first new moon following the solstice, on the first day of the Year of the Horse. On the third and final day of the White Moon festival, the nation would celebrate the marriage of their King to the Fourth Princess of Shan. </p><p> </p><p>****************</p><p> </p><p>The dark days of winter dragged by as families arrived from far-flung villages for the approaching celebration. They raised their tents, and the northern capital slowly doubled its size. The women prepared mountains of dumplings and cookies, the men trimmed and decorated their best clothing, prepared their horses. </p><p>Eldest Princess Yujen oversaw the construction and preparation of a large new tent for the couple. She would have preferred to have furnished a palace, but she determined her sister would have the most comfortable dwelling on these northern plains, no matter whether its walls were made of stone or cloth. </p><p>She stood with Yuwa and the Court Astrologer of Shan, a portly man called Hui. They marveled at the speed and coordination with which the King’s attendants erected the walls and bound them together, finally lashing the door frame into the circle. Two men carried a heavy wheel into the center of the structure as the King joined them. </p><p>“Do you approve?” Ulaan addressed Yuwa, his tone soft. “We will spend many happy evenings in this home.”</p><p>Yuwa blushed. In her mind, her fingertips again caressed the tattooed flowers that cascaded down his muscular back. The memory was so vivid she could smell the smoke of the lamps, hear the bathwater spilling over the rim of the wooden tub. Words stuck in her throat as she looked up at him, felt him so near again.</p><p>“Indeed, Your Majesty,” Yujen said tartly, forcing him to turn his attention to her. “We were just marveling at the clever design of these northern dwellings.” </p><p>She gestured to the attendants, who had added tall wooden columns to the bottom of the wheel. They turned it upright and held the heavy wheel steady in the air as other men fitted the ends of long wooden poles into the many holes carved into the edge of the wheel. The men spaced what looked to be more than one hundred of the slender timbers around the outer wall. After a man inserted a pole into the center wheel, he braced the butt end against the top of the wall and lashed it into place, creating a radiant roof design like a sunburst. </p><p>“Stunning!” Court Astrologer Hui exclaimed. “The balance between function and art could not be more beautifully demonstrated, King Ulaan. I was wondering, however, with the lack of trees on these grasslands, wherever do you get the wood for those long, uniform poles.” He looked around at the hundreds of tents. “There must be thousands, perhaps tens of thousands, of these poles in use in this very camp!”</p><p>“Yes,” smiled Yujen. “It is astonishing, how long and thick these northern poles are. Don’t you think so, Little Sister?”</p><p>Yuwa coughed discreetly into her sleeve. Ulaan glared at the Eldest Princess.</p><p>“It <em>is</em> astonishing, Your Highness!” gushed Hui. “King Ulaan, you must travel many days to find so much hardwood of this quality and consistency. And so smooth! I am interested in the techniques your craftsmen use.” </p><p>“Perhaps you can give us a demonstration, King Ulaan.” Yujen said mildly, her eyes on the builders. “Show us how you work these long, thick poles to such a smooth texture. They shine, Court Astrologer Hui, do they not?” </p><p>The Astrologer’s eyebrows lifted. “Indeed they do, Your Highness. Is that the result of you oiling them, King Ulaan?”</p><p>Yuwa had a sudden coughing fit. Ulaan appeared off balance. He looked from the astrologer to Yuwa, who blinked at him, her dark eyes wide. </p><p>“Well, do you oil your poles?” she asked sweetly. </p><p>Ulaan’s mouth opened, then closed. Yujen took her sister’s arm, leaned into her. </p><p>“Of course he does, Little Sister, look at that gloss. But the amount of oil it must take! The length of them, who would have imagined? And, look at the very impressive girth. Ah, Yuwa, I don’t think your tiny hand could even fit around that pole.” She pointed at the half-built roof.</p><p>“As you say, Princess,” Hui interrupted, nodding sagely. “The great thickness is needed to get through the severe winters. From the weight of the snow, you see, those poles must withstand a great deal of pressure. Those are hard-working poles.”</p><p>Ulaan made a choked noise.</p><p>Yujen smiled indulgently. “Well said, Master Hui. Yes, only the thickest of poles will get you through the winters here, Little Sister. But the time involved! King Ulaan, do you oil your own poles, or will my Yuwa need to oil your poles too?” </p><p>Ulaan shifted his weight back and forth, looking much younger than his age. Three pairs of eyes looked at him expectantly. </p><p>“I must get back to my, ah, training,” he managed, and retreated. </p><p>“Good luck with the woodworking, King Ulaan,” Yujen called after him. “Let us know about that demonstration.”</p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Soon, little doll."</p>
<p>He pulled the last pins from her hair, untangled the last coil. “First, there is something I have wanted to do with you these many long months. I have sat in this chair dreaming about it, I have longed for it as I watched you walk about with your attendants, your—“ he spat on the ground “—guards. It both tortured and sustained me while I indulged your sister’s wicked teasing and tonight—“ his face darkened, his voice was low and rough. “Tonight you shall indulge me.”</p>
<p>Yuwa’s breath caught as he began slowly unwinding the silk sash holding her robe to her body. It made a slithering sound as he dropped it at their feet. He unfastened her layered silk tunic and slid it from her shoulders, his eyes locked on hers. </p>
<p>“Ulaan,” she said.</p>
<p>He went to one knee.</p>
<p>“Give me your foot.” </p>
<p>He slid her boots off, one by one, and placed them aside, slowly stroking the arch and ankle of each small foot before he let it go. </p>
<p>She touched his shoulder to steady herself. </p>
<p>He unfastened the tie of her cotton trousers and slid them to the floor. She stepped out of them, suddenly shy. He ran his hands up her legs, slowing down on her thighs. The lamplight flowed tender and golden across her pale legs, the scent of her bath oils rose to him from her exposed skin.</p>
<p>His fingers curled into the shadowed spot under the swell of her ass, then up, gripping her bare bottom, pulling her toward him. He inhaled the minty, peppery smell of shiso, the warm cream of sandalwood, a hint of flowers. It had been so long since that day in her father’s palace, seasons of longing, but now she was here, with him, she was his.</p>
<p>He pushed up her cotton undershirt, exposing her stomach, and pressed his face between her breasts as she pulled the shirt off and dropped it to the floor. He looked up at her, his eyes at once demanding and vulnerable. She looked at the contrast between them, him in his leather, finely worked furs, his silk ceremonial robes, pressed against her bare skin, incandescent in the soft glow of the lamps. </p>
<p>“Ulaan,” she breathed. </p>
<p>He lifted her and carried her to his throne, sat her on the tall chair of dark wood reinforced with gleaming metal studs. Yuwa’s feet did not reach the wooden platform beneath the throne. Ulaan stood above her. The calm feeling spread throughout her body. No one could separate them again. Not ever.</p>
<p>So close, his beauty was overwhelming. She felt she was a lodestone, pulled toward him by an invisible, inexorable force, the surface of her body tingling, charged with energy. The tension in him grew as watched her on his throne, her scented skin on the polished wood. He threw off his jacket, then, and flung himself to his knees on the step below the low dais. He seized the chair on either side of her, his expression raw, his eyes burning.</p>
<p>“No more waiting,” he growled. “Open for me, my Queen.” </p>
<p>Yuwa had been prepared for this moment since that glorious day in her father’s palace. She gripped the arms of the throne and spread her knees wide, vibrating with anticipation. With a satisfied grunt he slipped his arms under her thighs, pulled her forward and spread her wide, pinning her in place. He plunged his face into her pussy, at first simply nuzzling her, inhaling her, as if to cover himself in her scent. She arched her back. He drew back.</p>
<p>“Look at me,” he said. She looked down. His eyes reflected the flickering red of the low firelight, reminding her of their first night together. He smiled and his fangs gleamed, long and sharp. He extended his tongue, and she watched him lick her pussy in a long slow path from below her cunt to her clit, already tight, expectant. She moaned when he lingered, lowering his mouth around her clit, teasing it with his tongue, sucking it, then giving it small kisses. </p>
<p>“Ulaan,” she sighed. </p>
<p>He turned his face, running his fangs over the gentle swells of her inner thigh. He pulled one hand from under her leg, and traced figure eights over her clit. She pressed her hips forward into his hand. </p>
<p>His fangs traced circles on her inner thigh. She squirmed under the thrilling sensation, but he held her firmly in place. She felt liquid gathering in her cunt, her delicate folds of skin growing sensitive and swollen under his fingers.</p>
<p>“I want to bite your perfect skin. I want to mark you as mine,” he murmured. “Here,” he said, scoring his fangs across her thigh, “or here.” He brought his mouth to her mons, trailing his teeth and tongue up around the sensitive area above her clit. He continued to make lazy circles around her pussy, stroking her lips. </p>
<p>“So wet,” he said, enthralled. His finger slipped further and traced the sensitive skin around the pucker of her ass. </p>
<p>She said his name again, but all that came out was, “Uuuuungh.”</p>
<p>“So you know, I plan to take my time with you,” he rumbled into her pussy, and slipped his tongue inside her. </p>
<p>She curled forward, watching his big head between her knees as if she couldn’t believe he was there. It was as if he had spent the year in dark fantasies of how to extract pleasure from her body, and now brought all of them to life. He stroked her thighs, licked around the rim of her cunt, plunged his tongue into her, then curled it as if to catch her juices as they flowed forth for him. Yuwa bucked under his hand, making little cries. Not satisfied, he pushed his fingers into her, greedy for more. He inhaled deeply as his tongue moved over her, sighing as her scent filled him, the other hand curled around her thigh. </p>
<p>She felt like she was floating. There was no time, only the sensations of her body unfurling for him, revealing all her secrets. Need built in her, but when she was close, he pulled back from her clit, released the suction and circled it lightly. She gripped his hair, trying to push him back onto her clit, press him into her. She wanted badly to come.</p>
<p>He chuckled, and she wondered if this was payment for the times she had teased him, for the long months of waiting. </p>
<p>“Yuwa,” his voice was rough. He spoke even as his mouth was on her skin, she felt the vibrations of his voice inside her flesh. “You are the finest—finest delicacy. Finer than the rarest wine, finer than the ripest fruit. The gods—the gods would cry to taste something as sweet as you. Say you are mine.” </p>
<p>“You—yours,” she panted. </p>
<p>His fingers plunged into her with deliberate rhythm, stretching the entrance of her cunt, teasing her inner walls. His mouth descended on her clit, his tongue lavishing the firm little jewel and the skin all around it, exciting sensations from the hidden parts of her clit. He set a steady slow rhythm and didn’t waver, his fingers, tongue, and lips moving together, fucking her thoroughly. She pumped her hips against his face, biting her lips, her breath growing louder, faster. </p>
<p>“Hah, hah, hah,” she said, then threw her head back, arching, her soft throat exposed in the low light. She cried out, spreading her legs as far as they could stretch, fisting her small hands through his black hair. Liquid pulsed from her cunt as she came, over his fingers. His tongue moved to lap up her juices, sucking them and catching them, then returned to her clit, demanding the last bit of sensation from her convulsing body.</p>
<p>She jerked upward, still clutching his head, and tried to scoot her hips back. </p>
<p>“Too—too sensitive. Ulaan,” she gasped. He looked up at her, smiling, his face glistening with her essence. </p>
<p>He watched her breathing gradually slow. She came back to herself, as he gently caressed her legs. </p>
<p>“This is what you were thinking about all those months?” she asked shyly.</p>
<p>“Of a sort,” he said. He ran his hand over the wood where she sat. “I wanted, on our first night as King and Queen, to fuck you in this throne until your wetness flowed over this seat, consecrating it with my Queen’s own cunt.” He looked at his hand. “It seems I’ve been too greedy, and lapped up all your juices. The wood is barely touched.” </p>
<p>“Well, what does that mean?” Yuwa asked, stretching on the throne like a cat.</p>
<p>He stood and began to strip off his robes. </p>
<p>“It means, my Queen, we will have to try again.” He gave her a wicked look. “And this time we shall use my long, thick northern pole.”</p>
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<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Their wedding day had been glorious, bright and clear and almost windless. But even before the winter sun mounted the deep blue bowl of the sky, Ulaan, his uncles, and several generals and attendants rode in the weak morning light to Yuwa’s tent in the Shan camp. </p><p>Yuwa had been up since well before the dawn. She crushed her attendant XiXi’s hand as she heard Ulaan’s riders approach. Hooves crunched in the snow, there was the creak of leather and the clink and jingle of the bridles and buckles on the northern war saddles. </p><p>She peeked around the curtain at the King’s party, her eyes drawn to the impossibly handsome man at the front, commanding the attention of all in his wedding finery of embroidered red and gold silks. A thick red cloak draped from the King’s shoulders down and over the haunches of his mount, whose tack was also adorned with red and gold ribbons and ornaments. Her King’s black hair shone under the simple gold circlet on his head. His eyes searched for his bride.</p><p>“XiXi, he’s here,” she said breathlessly, knowing XiXi was well aware of this fact. The attendant would be staying with Yuwa to serve her in her new court, but today she must ride with the two princesses to prepare Yuwa for the ceremony in the King’s camp.</p><p>“Ouch, Your Highness, don’t break all my bones before I get you dressed,” XiXi whispered, trying unsuccessfully to pull her hand away.</p><p>Yuwa’s siblings, Eldest Princess Yujen and the princes of Shan walked forward to meet the groom’s party. Ulaan’s uncles presented the Crown Prince of Shan with another blue strip of silk and several wrapped packages. Yuwa knew they contained symbolic gifts such as glue, to hold the marriage together, or metalwork, to show the strength of his love. </p><p>Ulaan’s generals stepped forward and presented the Eldest Princess with wedding garments for Yuwa. They bowed and displayed embroidered boots, a sash, a silk robe covered with elaborate appliqué designs, a fur cloak, and an elaborate headdress, as well as cotton and silk undergarments, long beaded earrings, and golden ornaments and hairpieces. Yuwa gasped when she glimpsed the deep red and gold shimmer of the silks she would soon be wearing. They were a match to his. Her excitement grew as outside, her big sister Yujen examined the garments and nodded. </p><p>Several nobles of Shan carried out the remainder of Yuwa’s personal things, neatly packed, the symbol of her final departure from her family home to the home of the Northern King. The generals silently received these items and loaded them onto their horses. </p><p>Yuwa felt a finality, a feeling beyond words. This was real. By the time the sun crossed the sky she would be Queen of this land, and would belong in every way to the tall warrior seated on his horse outside.</p><p>XiXi looked at Yuwa. “Are you ready, Your Highness?” </p><p>Yuwa just bit her lip and squeezed XiXi’s hand harder. </p><p>Yujen entered the tent. “It’s time, Little Sister.” </p><p>She looked Yuwa up and down. The Fourth Princess seemed frozen. Yujen clasped Yuwa’s shoulders and gave her a shake. </p><p>“Hey, you dreamed about this, remember?” Yujen shook her head at Yuwa’s pale face, her glassy eyes. “Tsk,” she said. “Don’t faint.” </p><p>The three women emerged from the tent and, along with the two Shan princes, mounted their horses for Yuwa’s last ride as a Princess of Shan. As XiXi had no riding experience, the younger prince led her horse. Ulaan looked at Yuwa softly for a long moment, before turning his horse to lead them forward. </p><p>The King’s party slowly processed across the camp to the new tent that the Northmen had built and Shan had furnished for the couple. Yuwa let her body sway with the horse’s shifting weight as he picked his way through the churned snow. She looked around her at the sea of tents. Even this early, people were emerging to watch them pass. </p><p>No, not “people.” <em> Her </em> people. </p><p>The enormity of this day rolled like an avalanche through her mind. Past the tents, past the herds of livestock and horses, past the glittering white plain with sharp lines of dried grasses emerging here and there, black against the snow, all the way to the dark hills on the horizon, and beyond. This was <em> her </em> land. These children, these grandmothers, these soldiers and bakers and herders and teachers, this was <em> her </em> nation. She looked up. <em> Her </em> deep blue northern sky. </p><p>Flanked by his two uncles, Ulaan rode at the front of the column, his back strong and straight. Yuwa rode directly behind him, with Yujen and XiXi to either side. Behind them, the Crown Prince of Shan rode, followed by the rest of the King’s generals and attendants. </p><p>No turning back. </p><p>Yuwa kept her eyes on Ulaan. She imagined the sound of his voice, sometimes commanding, sometimes uncertain. She thought of his boldness with her, how his jaw tightened when he was hurt, how loudly he laughed when they were in private. He could fight without rest for days, endure wounds that would lay another man low. She thought of the devotion of his men, their love and loyalty, all for this warrior King. She thought of his hidden kindness, how he lived in his emotions. His back did not sway in the saddle, he held himself straight. She had thrown her arms around that broad back once. She had given herself to him. He had never looked away from her since. </p><p>Yuwa decided. Whatever happened today, she would keep her eyes on Ulaan.</p><p>They pulled up their horses in front of their new home. Ulaan dismounted and came to her. His eyes were full as he lifted her down beside him.</p><p>“Ready?” he whispered as they walked together between two lit fires and across a white felt blanket to the entrance. </p><p>“Are you?” she whispered back, and squeezed his hand. At the threshold Ulaan stepped back. She stole one last look at him before Yujen and XiXi escorted her into the tent. He swallowed and attempted a smile. His nervousness was strangely reassuring, and she relaxed as XiXi and her sister spent most of the morning dressing her from head to foot in her new garments. </p><p>Yujen watched as XiXi put the finishing touches on Yuwa’s elaborate hairstyle and headdress.  The little maid stuck out her tongue as she concentrated. When she finished, XiXi stepped back and bowed to Yujen. </p><p>Yujen stepped closer, evaluating her sister with a thoughtful expression. She smiled, then slapped Yuwa sharply on both cheeks. Yuwa yelped in protest but Yujen brushed her hands aside and continued, covering her cheekbones with little pinches. She finished by pinching Yuwa's lips. Yuwa covered her mouth with her hands, her wide eyes accusing. </p><p>“Oh don’t be such a baby, Little Sister.” Yujen stepped back to admire her work. “Not much for cosmetics up here, but we can still give you a little color.” </p><p>She took in the whole picture of Yuwa in her red and gold tunic, robes, jewelry and ornaments, and nodded approvingly. “You look like you are the sacred fire, Sister. I think you’re ready.” </p><p>Yujen grasped Yuwa’s forearms and kissed her on each cheek, then stepped outside. Both Yuwa and XiXi could hear the murmur, laughter, and occasional singing of the large crowd that had gathered outside. Yuwa glanced nervously at XiXi, who gave her an encouraging smile.</p><p>Yujen returned with an elderly monk, then opened the tent to Ulaan, his uncles and the Shan princes. The monk guided Yuwa as she bowed to the hearth and lit it for the first time, saying her prayers to the new fire. The old holy man brought the couple together and blessed them before giving a lengthy benediction about morality, marriage, and tradition, during which everyone grew sleepy except for the bride and groom, who were staring at each other with very little thought for morality. </p><p>When the monk finally concluded, Yuwa offered food to the sacred hearth fire and made milk tea for everyone present. The monk blessed the hearth with incense, and the wedding party emerged from the tent, where the bride and groom exchanged silver rings before the gathered crowd. </p><p>Ulaan’s large fingers mesmerized Yuwa as they slid the ring onto her hand. She felt vaguely surprised at how diminutive her hand looked next to his. Holding her breath, she slipped the matching ring onto his finger. Ulaan’s eyes were shining. He held her eyes for one moment, then turned to the crowd and lifted her easily onto his shoulder. The crowd hushed and his voice carried far over their heads.</p><p>“People of the north, my people, this woman is my wife, Her Royal Majesty, Queen Yuwa.” </p><p>The crowd erupted in cheers and song. Yuwa was blinded by the bright happiness of the faces smiling up at her as far as her eyes could see. When her face felt cold she realized she was crying, her tears freezing on her cheeks before she could wipe them. Then she was in her King’s arms, his lips were on hers, and she realized he was crying too. </p><p>And then, the party began.</p>
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<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Yuwa leaned sideways on Ulaan’s throne, watching his various garments hit the floor. She stroked her hands over her breasts. His gaze followed her movements. </p><p>“Let’s see this pole, then,” she purred. </p><p>“You’ve seen it before,” he said, finally pulling his trousers down and standing naked before her.</p><p>“Yes, but it’s been too long. Now I want a good long look.” He stepped up beside her, and she took his cock in her hand. “Yujen was right,” she chuckled. “My hand doesn’t quite fit around it.” </p><p>“Yuwa—” Ulaan began.</p><p>“Now, now, dear King, patience.” She sat up, positioning her legs around his knees. “I want to look at this pole. Perhaps we should oil it?” Looking up at him, she leaned forward and licked around the crown of his cock. He hissed, his thighs clenching.</p><p>“Yuwa.”</p><p>She planted little kisses around the rim, ran her hand to the base and squeezed. She slowly ran her tongue over the little indentation in the top. With her other hand she cupped his balls, massaging them lightly. </p><p>“Yuwa,” he gasped. “Your mouth is like heaven. It’s been so long.”</p><p>She lowered her head, slipped the top of his cock into her mouth, pressed the flat of her tongue against the underside. She could feel a pulse starting under her hand. </p><p>“Yuwa. I don’t—I don’t want to come like this.” She pulled her mouth off of him and looked up. “It’s our wedding night. I want to anoint this throne—with you, inside you. After we get to our bed, then—” He smiled at the thought. “Then you can suck on me as much as you like.”</p><p>She ran her hands up and down his cock. “What would you like then?”</p><p>“You are a good archer as I recall.” </p><p>She frowned. “Yes.” </p><p>“Then I should teach you the bowstring position.” He pulled her to the edge of the chair, lowering himself to one knee between her thighs. He touched her breasts, massaging them, kissed her neck, her collarbone. He ducked his head and flicked his tongue across her nipple, then pursed his mouth on her breast. He sucked and circled his tongue around her nipple as it tightened in his mouth. He nipped her and she gasped. </p><p>“My King,” she breathed. He looked up. A blush was spreading from her cheeks to her neck to her chest. Her eyes were heated. “Your fangs are showing.”</p><p>He smiled broadly, giving her a good view.</p><p>“Let me kiss you,” she said. </p><p>She snaked her arms around his neck and found his tongue, slid it over hers. Her hunger and heat rising, she sucked on his lips, then moved her face to his ear, licking and kissing him. </p><p>He pulled her hips forward, threw one leg up onto his shoulder. She tilted backwards at this movement, but pulled herself up with her hands still clasping his neck. Eye to eye, she felt his cock, pressing hard against her pussy. As she resumed kissing his neck, he grabbed his cock and ran it through her slick swollen flesh, snarling when it dipped into her heat. </p><p>She paused, one thigh on his shoulder, the other wrapped around him, her heel digging into his hamstring. She clung to him, and felt her body readying herself. Arousal bloomed in her, a flood of desire. His cock jerked against her entrance, she felt it dripping on her. She wanted to throw herself forward, plunge him into her. </p><p>His eyes were burning, urgent; his breath came in short bursts. When he spoke his fangs showed, sharp and long.</p><p>“Now, woman,” he growled. “Take your King.” </p><p>Elation flamed in her eyes as he drove into her, spreading her around him, his balls making a smacking sound as they hit her pussy. </p><p>“Gods!” she cried. “Yes!” Then, overwhelmed, at his second strong thrust she drew herself close and sank her teeth into his neck. </p><p>He roared and sank deeper into her, pinning her knee on his shoulder between them. The movement shook her from his neck and she fell back with the tang of his blood in her mouth. She smiled at him and licked her lips. </p><p>“Take me,” he said, his voice rough. </p><p>And then he fucked her. With one leg up and held securely, she had no room to maneuver and could only hold on to him, savor the feeling of him plummeting into her cunt, the wet sound of their bodies coming together. His pelvis fell on her sensitive clit again and again, words flew out of her mind as the heat and pressure built in her body, she suddenly remembered the soldiers outside, hearing every cry. She felt wanton, and cried louder as his cock invaded her, and like every city that had fallen before him she surrendered, relinquished all control and was swept away. </p><p>She clawed at his shoulders, she gasped his name as her pussy released a liquid surge which streamed out around his cock and soaked her ass. He held her to the chair, making savage noises as he came into her, his release shooting into the depths of her cunt. He stayed there, pulsing, pushing every drop into her, and not until his cock relaxed did he ease out of her body. </p><p>He took a moment, struggling to slow his breathing down. Reaching behind him, Ulaan doubled his thick cloak and spread it on the floor. He cradled her in his arms and brought them both to the ground. Her eyes were closed, her face wet. Ulaan looked her over, running his hands over her back. </p><p>“What are you doing?” she whispered. </p><p>“I wondered if I scraped you when I pushed you against the throne. It has so many hard edges…” </p><p>She chuckled. “No, my sweet King, I am not bruised.” Her eyes opened. “If anything, I drew blood on you.” </p><p>“You did,” he smiled. “You marked me for your own. But why did you cry?” he frowned. </p><p>“It was just so intense, my love. My feelings overwhelmed me.” She touched his chest. “I’ve never felt anything like that before.” </p><p>He reflected. “Nor have I.” </p><p>“Did you fulfill your dream then?” she asked. </p><p>Ulaan glanced to the throne. Thin trails of slick liquid ran down the front of the seat. </p><p>“Yes. The throne has been properly sanctified, and now the reign of Yuwa and Ulaan can begin.”</p><p>He kissed her lightly. </p><p>“Then what next, my King?”</p><p>“When you feel up to it, I shall wrap you in your cloak and carry you to our bed, where I will make love to you over and over in the warmth of our new hearth fire.” </p><p>“Mmmm,” she rolled into him, suddenly sleepy. “I don’t want to move yet. I am perfectly happy to lie here with you next to me.” She sighed. “Finally.” She fell quiet for so long he thought she was sleeping.  “But then,” her eyes opened, smiling and full of mischief, “then will you show me the camel position?”</p><p>Laughter rumbled through his chest. “I will, my love. Yes, I think I will.”</p><p>
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  <em> And thus it was, dear friends, </em>
</p><p><em> that the Crown Prince Nigen came  </em> <em> to be born </em></p><p>
  <em> in the Year of the Horse. </em>
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